


Playtime

by Redlance



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 10:04:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4915294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redlance/pseuds/Redlance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Until Chloe, Beca's fantasies had been kept locked away in a little box, the lid of which she would open now and again so that she could sneak a look inside. Indulge herself, just a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playtime

**Author's Note:**

> **Anon prompt** \- Beca fucks Chloe with a strap on. That's all. And if you wanna include from behind I would maybe die dead.
> 
> **A/N** : Not beta'd so... forgive any mistakes. This is why the next chapter of Experimentation has been a little slower going this time around, but now this is done and out of my head, I can get back to it. ;) Hopefully it's worth the distraction?

* * *

She's always found fantasies hard. Even just  **having** them. It used to make her feel uncomfortable, guilty almost, and though she's come a long way since then, she still finds them difficult. Hearing about them, talking about them, explaining what it is she wants to do or have done to her. She's never been that kind of vocal, never been comfortable enough in her own skin to even  **think** about being that vocal.

 

Until Chloe.

 

Until Chloe, Beca's fantasies had been kept locked away in a little box, the lid of which she would open now and again so that she could sneak a look inside. Indulge herself, just a bit.

 

Bit by bit, Chloe had coaxed her into leaving the lid off. Into believing that there was nothing inside of the box that Beca needed to be embarrassed by or feel guilty about. Chloe has never been embarrassed by a sexual fantasy a day in her life, so the idea that some people found that kind of thing difficult to talk about, even with the person sharing their bed, was odd to her at first. But just like everything with Beca, Chloe worked her way around it. Helped her unwind.

 

Having Chloe detail exactly what she wanted to do to her was only awkward the first time. And maybe it's Chloe's confidence that makes the difference. The way she'd climbed into Beca's lap and slipped her tongue between her lips, breathing her desires into Beca's mouth like a prayer. The rush of heat to her face had very rapidly begun to have less and less to do with embarrassment.

 

Being with Chloe was, for Beca, a new lesson in loving herself. Every day. Whether she was a willing pupil or not, Chloe relished the opportunity to teach. The lessons varied, of course. From warm, loving glances sent Beca's way to lazy Sunday mornings where the hours between waking and leaving the bed were spent lost in foggy bliss. And Beca would forget her own name, but find another piece of herself.

 

Over their time together, Beca has maintained a certain level of vanilla in regard to the fantasies she's voiced. Not because she'd hiding filthy thoughts, but because Chloe herself is almost too much excitement for Beca to handle just on her own. The thought of adding any more spice to the bedroom makes her worry about spontaneous combustion. But there's a moment, at two a.m. on a Wednesday morning. About an hour after Beca had woken up to Chloe's hand curving sleepily around her breast and a leg bent across her lower half in a way that let her **feel** the redhead against her hip. Approximately fifty-six minutes after Beca had snapped and rolled a gently stirring Chloe onto her back to wake her properly.

 

Breathing heavily against Chloe's slight weight baring down against her chest, their naked bodies tacky with perspiration, Beca's eyes had been drifting closed under the feather-light patterns being traced across her ribs when she heard it.

 

“ _Have you ever...”_

 

“ _Hmm?”_

 

“ _Have you ever thought about... using toys?”_

 

She hadn't, and she'd told Chloe that. The redhead had hummed thoughtfully, the sound vibrating across Beca's collarbone, and for a minute or so, things were silent again.

 

“ _You should.”_

 

Chloe hadn't said any more then and, aside from an off-the-cuff remark about strap-ons, she's been quiet on the matter.

 

Beca's been thinking about it non-stop for three days.

 

She's thinking about it now, as she stares at the nondescript black plastic bag she's placed on the dresser, tip of her thumb snared between her teeth and leg bouncing against the mattress of the bed she shares with Chloe. Her insides keep churning and although it isn't an entirely unpleasant feeling, it's unsettling. Makes her muscles twitch.

 

She can hear Chloe singing from the shower in the en suite, can hear the sound of the water still running and the ticking of the clock in the hallway.

 

She'd bought it Friday afternoon and that had been an experience in and of itself. A painfully awkward one and she'd vowed, once getting back into her car, to never enter such an establishment again without Chloe by her side. The woman behind the counter had been wonderfully helpful, that hadn't been the problem, and Beca was pretty confident that she'd brought home something Chloe would enjoy. Which meant she'd enjoy it too. Now it was just a matter of convincing herself to put the damn thing on and not be embarrassed. Not be worried or anxious. Because it's Chloe and there's no need for any of those things. But old habits die hard. Still, Beca's all too aware that her time is running out.

 

Standing, she crosses the small space between the end of the bed and the dresser and plucks the bag up from where it sits, turning back to upend the contents out onto the duvet. She'd already taken the harness out of the packaging in order to hide it easier, although 'harness' isn't really the word. It looks like a pair of black and purple boy briefs, only there's a hole in the front for the toy to slip through and a thick circle of foam secured inside to hold it stable. The dildo itself is still boxed, slim silicone that rises into ridges along the shaft and the hot pink colour almost burning her retinas, but she'd picked it because she **knows** Chloe will like it. And that's all that matters really.

 

The chick at the store had even thrown in a little bottle of lube “since it's your first time” with a wink that had made Beca want to die, because of course it was just that painfully obvious.

 

The sound of Chloe shutting off the water pulls a freezing thread of anxiety through Beca that makes her shiver and think “fuck it” before she starts pulling down the sweats she'd changed into after her own shower earlier that morning. She sheds her tank, tossing it onto the chair in the corner of the room as she tugs open the bottom drawer of the dresser and pulls out one of the thin flannel button downs Chloe likes to sleep in sometimes. She's pretty sure they – she has three of them – all belonged to Tom at one point, which is kinda weird now that Beca's shrugging into it, but she dispels the thought with a shake of her head. Her underwear is next and she shimmies out of it, kicking it under the bed out of sight for now and slips into the briefs. They feel nice, snug, and she reaches for the toy. She unpacks it with trembling hands and drops the plastic casing to the floor, kicking that under the bed as well. She can hear Chloe humming and the quiet bang of the cupboard under the sink closing. Taking a deep breath, she stretches out the waistband of the briefs and pops it through the hole, then stares down at herself. Her fingers disappear into her hair as she considers her appearance; that it doesn't look completely ridiculous, that Chloe might actually really **like** how it looks, and then she starts to smile as she conjures up the image of Chloe's surprised-but-aroused face. She pushes her finger down against the hot pink tip and rolls her eyes at herself when she giggles at the way it bounces when she releases it, then snaps the elastic of the briefs for good measure. She shoves the plastic bag into the underwear draw, grabs the lube, and then jogs around to the side of the bed. She shoves the bottle beneath her pillow and dives back under the covers, then goes about trying to rearrange herself into a natural position before calling out.

 

It takes a few minutes.

 

“Hey, Chlo?” At first there's no answer, so she shouts a little louder, trying to keep her voice even. “Chloe?” She hears the fan click off.

 

“You calling me, babe?”

 

“Uh,” she trips, swallows hard, tries again, “Yeah, I was. Can you, um, can I talk to you for a sec?” There's a brief pause of silence.

 

“Right now?”

 

“Well, I mean, yeah. Sort of right now. Yes.” She's thankful Chloe can't see her face right now because there's a lot of eye action – widening, rolling – going on as Beca struggles with her inner idiot as it tries to claw its way free. Chloe's chuckle is muffled through the door but Beca catches it and she spares a glance under the covers to check that the hem of the shirt is still covering her 'surprise'. Then the sound of the bathroom door opening drags her attention back up and Chloe is emerging from a cloud of steam looking fresh, damp, and still wearing just a towel. And Beca has seen her in much, much less, but there's something in the way that so much skin is on show and yet all the goodies are covered that makes her heart thump harder. Chloe's bright eyes scan the room before finding Beca, curiously back in bed, and she raises an eyebrow. The corner of her mouth chases the motion, pulling it into a smirk.

 

“Nice shirt.” She nods towards Beca, red curls dripping water all over the carpet, and Beca looks down at what she's wearing, fingers peeking out from beyond a too-large cuff to pluck at the buttons she's left undone at the top. Then, with a confidence she doesn't completely feel, she looks up at Chloe through her lashes and licks her lips before parting them to speak.

 

“It looks better on the floor.” Chloe looks simultaneously delighted and surprised.

 

“Miss Mitchell,” she gasps, bare feet making no sound as she approaches the bed, eyebrows raised and gaze smouldering as it burns into Beca's, “are you trying to seduce me?” Any hope of Beca replying fizzles away to nothing as Chloe's fingers work their way under the folds of thick material at her chest and tug, allowing the towel to fall from her body and land, immediately forgotten, at the side of the bed.

 

“Fuck me.” Beca croaks, voice suddenly groggy as her eyes sweep over Chloe's bare form and she finds herself, not for the first time, floored by how beautiful the redhead is. How hot and sexy and stunning she is. Just looking at her sends Beca's stomach into some kind of back-flipping turmoil, uncontrollable and entirely unable to be sated, so far at least. She could stare at Chloe forever. In theory. She knows that she'd have trouble keeping it a staring minimal in reality. Chloe hums approvingly as she crawls onto the bed, kneeling over Beca and bringing her hands to the brunette's cheeks.

 

“I love it when you talk dirty.” She grins, eyes glittering before they vanish behind closed lids and covers Beca's lips with her own. Although perhaps 'covers' isn't the right word.

 

Captures, commands, dominates; some potent mix of all three. She kisses Beca like she's the one who has been planning for this, like Beca's the unwitting pawn and Chloe has her exactly where she wants her. Whimpering into her mouth as Chloe's tongue stokes a fire that Beca's anticipation already has spiralling out containment. Her hands find purchase on slender hips, clutching at bone as Chloe nips her lower lip and then moving up along her sides. Her thumbs brush the underside of Chloe's breasts and Beca's lips shift into a pleased smile when the redhead breaks the kiss with a gasp. She watches Chloe bite her lip as she moves her hands to cup full flesh and drags the pads of her thumbs over puckered skin. She arches above her, humming appreciatively as she presses herself into Beca's palms, and Beca's eyes drift lazily down her naked torso, mapping every line and curve.

 

Chloe's body is ridiculous. Even with clothes adorning it, there are more admirers for Beca to catch staring than she would like. Of course, what she'd like is for there to be a handful at most and both verbal and written consent to beat them with her fists for looking, but not one of those things are likely to happen. Her girlfriend is hot, she'll find a way to live with it.

 

When all the layers have fallen away though, leaving **just** Chloe, naked and free, that is something else entirely.

 

Chloe's body is poetry. It's music and dance. It's those first magical rays of sunlight breaking over the horizon and the crystal clear Caribbean sea. Chloe is breath-taking, in every sense of the word, and every day Beca finds a new reason to suffocate. Gladly.

 

Fingers slip into her hair, combing back the locks with firm strokes and Beca lets the motion tilt her head back until she's gazing up into cerulean pools. And marvelling at the clarity of them, the honesty.

 

“What's got you all riled up?” Chloe asks, twisting her hand to lightly scratch along the back of Beca's scalp. It pulls a small sigh from her and she lets her eyes drift shut for a few seconds.

 

“I have a smoking hot girlfriend.” Beca's fingers contract, thumb and pointer on her right hand pinching Chloe's nipple hard enough to make the redhead whimper and fist her hand in dark tresses. It stings, makes Beca grunt.

 

“That's no different from any other day.” Chloe points out, her voice a little lower, a little rougher than moments before. And Beca smirks, because that's it. Her opening. Handed over on a silver platter by none other than Chloe Beale.

 

Always making things easier for Beca.

 

“No.” She snakes one hand around to grab the back of Chloe's neck, anchoring her down as she sends her other hand lower, searching for Chloe's. When she finds it, she wraps her fingers around Chloe's wrist and brings it to the edge of the duvet as their noses bump. “But this...” she presses a single kiss to Chloe's lips and the redhead's hand beneath the blanket, “is.” And she knows the instant Chloe's hand meets smooth silicone because she feels it move against her. The gasp that leaves the redhead is high and sharp, surprise parting her lips and letting it loose.

 

“Beca....” Chloe's gaze is piercing and Beca swallows, trying not to lose herself in it. After a few seconds, Chloe's hand moves along its length, back and forth, and Beca's eyes flit across her face, taking in even the most minuscule shifting of her expression.

 

“Is this...” her confidence stumbles and so go her words, “this is what you wanted, right?” Chloe blinks at her, brow gently furrowing, and then in one swift movement she's rolling off the bed and pulling the duvet away from Beca, who instinctively shrieks and tugs at the hem of her shirt to cover herself. Then there's a moment where they regard one another, Chloe with a raised eyebrow and flushed cheeks, and Beca wearing the sheepish expression of someone who's just been caught doing something silly. She tries to cover it up by smoothing out the bottom of the shirt, but knows it's too little, too late. She doesn't worry about it too long though, because Chloe's climbing back onto the bed and then Beca's too busy watching the way her muscles move when she does.

 

She sits next to Beca, angled onto her side so that her knees bump the brunette's thighs, and reaches out to flip the shirt tails out of the way. At first, Beca's attention remains on Chloe's face, waiting to witness every possible reaction and she's rewarded with the sight of Chloe licking her lips the instant after her hand wraps around the shaft and her mouth falls open. Then Beca's attention strays, down to where Chloe's testing the material, squeezing and stroking with her fingertips.

 

“Yeah.” Chloe rasps, fingers moving to trace the pattern lines of the underwear. “Where did-”

 

“Google.” Beca's quick to answer. “Did you know we have like, six sex shops in town?” And she is actually genuinely curious as to whether or not Chloe had any prior knowledge of this, but the redhead doesn't offer any kind of solid answer, just chuckles and tilts her head towards Beca's face. Her fingertips drift over the bare skin of her thighs and Beca's toes twitch involuntarily.

 

“Is this something **you** want though?” She's not surprised by the question, Beca's level of comfort in the bedroom has always been one of Chloe's top concerns. What she **is** surprised by, is the voracity with which the answer hits her. Then leaves her.

 

“What I want, is to fuck you.” Harsh and throaty through desire, her gaze heavy on Chloe as the redhead's chest visibly strains against her sudden inability to breathe. And it isn't as though Beca's never said anything like that before, but something about this is different. The air around them seems to crackle, like it's charged, desperate for a spark and the control Beca sometimes has over her body is slipping very quickly away. Chloe looks exactly like she'll die if Beca doesn't touch her, something Beca's brain has never been very good at processing, and the simple fact that she's naked has Beca wondering why she isn't doing just that already.

 

“Well,” the word trembles as it falls from Chloe's lips and the sound of it rips a thrill right through Beca's core, “what are you waiting for?”

 

And Beca is rarely the aggressor in the bedroom. Which isn't to say she's a lazy bottom or anything, far from it, but when it comes to taking charge that's really more of Chloe's forte, and she's fine with that. She's **more** than fine with that. There have been occasions though, where Chloe's glances had lingered a little too hotly, a little too long throughout the night, and Beca had been unable to stop herself from shoving the redhead against the wall the second they made it out of the taxi and in through the door. Hiking up whatever skirt or dress Chloe happened to be wearing and roughly pushing her underwear aside or, on one occasion, ripping it off.

 

Chloe has a knack for unwinding Beca from the inside out. Loosening every tense and tightly coiled muscle until anything and everything she can imagine is okay and her body is free to act instinctively. She can do it with something as seemingly innocuous as a glance or as purposeful as whispering something filthy into Beca's ear. She knows exactly how to get to her, how to make her wet without even touching her, but Beca's learned a few things about Chloe too. And she knows how to use them to her advantage.

 

“My shirt isn't going to take itself off.” She purses her lips and cocks an expectant eyebrow, watching for the change in Chloe's expression and not being disappointed. In an instant, it becomes dark and intense, like the smoke from the fire between them is throwing shadows across her face as she moves to straddle Beca's legs, just above her knees. Chloe reaches for the buttons and Beca sees the way her hands are shaking as they work the first one through the hole. She wonders which is to blame, it's nerves or desire, but even with the tremors, she's down three buttons before Beca can blink. “Slowly.” She chastises, swallowing as Chloe's eyes flick up to meets hers for a second before dropping back down, and Chloe releases an exasperated sigh that Beca knows is more for show than anything else.

 

Chloe likes being told what to do.

 

She brings her hands around to rest against the pale skin of Chloe's thighs and idly strokes them back and forth as she keeps her attention trained on Chloe's face. Her heart is pounding behind her ribs and her toes keep curling reflexively, but she wets her lips and takes a deep breath in through her nose to steady herself.

 

There's a very fine line between what gets Chloe going and what gets Beca off, and it's one that requires the utmost concentration in order for her to avoid crossing it, accidentally or otherwise.

 

Once Chloe finishes with the last button, she slips her hands inside the shirt and pushes it away from where it's covering Beca's torso, exposing her naked chest to bright, hungry eyes. Beca shivers at the look, then again as fingers drift along her sides and over her stomach. They travel up between the valley of her breasts and then over the peaks, gently squeezing and pinching, pulling a tight whine from Beca.

 

“You're so...” Chloe sighs and curls the tips of her fingers, digging lightly into Beca's skin as she drags her hands back down towards the waistband of the underwear. “Hot.” She breathes the word and Beca's stomach clenches at the sound of it.

 

“Yeah?” Chloe only hums again in response, gaze riveted on the hot pink appendage between Beca's legs. “Even with this?” She gives her hips a wiggle to make the toy sway and the redhead's chuckle is dry and throaty.

 

“ **Especially** with this.” She wraps her hand around the head, then slowly pushes it down to the base, and Beca believes her. Watches the motion of her hand for a handful of seconds and then darts her upper body forward. She catches Chloe off guard and their teeth clack together but, as with most things, Chloe recovers quickly. She scoots closer, pressing their bodies together and whimpering at the contact. Her palms find Beca's face but don't linger long at her cheeks, sliding one down and around into thick tresses at the base of her neck as Beca licks hungrily into Chloe's mouth, again and again. The other strays to a shoulder where it pushes and shoves at the shirt until Beca gives in. She breaks the kiss only long enough to quickly pull it off, throwing it somewhere to the side of them, and then Chloe's pulling at her hair to tilt Beca's head back and gasping into her mouth.

 

And it's never been like this with anyone else. Not that Beca has a whole host of past experiences to compared to, but Chloe's the only one who's ever made her feel that disconnect from her own body. That sort of primal loss of control that she has no power over. Only Chloe does, but it isn't as though she exercises it all that often. Or ever.

 

Her hands move restlessly over Chloe, along her sides and down her spine, cupping her backside and squeezing until Chloe's forced closer. The redhead pulls back from the kiss, dragging in a lungful of air and digging her nails into Beca's shoulder hard enough to make the brunette wince. She tips her head forward at the feel of Chloe's hips rocking gently towards her, against the toy, and presses her lips to Chloe's collarbone. Damp curls tickle her shoulder as Chloe leans her temple to the side of Beca's head and her ragged breaths drift over her skin.

 

“Are you wet?” She whispers into the hollow of Chloe's throat and Chloe whimpers again, nodding. Beca releases a shaky breath, nipping at the skin under her mouth. “How wet?” In lieu of a response, Chloe mindlessly grinds down into Beca and makes contact with her thigh to show just how wet she is. And something in Beca, bent beyond measure, snaps. “Get on your knees.” She almost doesn't recognise the sound of her own voice, but it's there somewhere beneath the raw **want** that's turning it gravelly. Towards a growl and her stomach rolls at the implication, like someone is saying it to her. The warm puffs of air disappear as Chloe's hand clenches at her shoulder, just once, and then she straightens.

 

Chloe's eyes are hooded, her cheeks as red as her hair. The blush spreads out across her freckle-dashed chest and Beca unexpectedly holds fast, wrapping her arms tightly around the small of Chloe's back as she tries to move away. Sky-blue eyes glance curiously at her, then roll back behind their lids as Beca closes her mouth around a nipple. She flicks her tongue across the tip then bites down, gently at first, but adding pressure as she tugs. She hears Chloe moan, loud and uninhibited, and looks up in time to see her running her fingers through her red hair. Arousal tears its way through Beca, burning a trail from the centre of her chest to the apex of her thighs and making her blood boil. She releases the nipple with an audible 'pop' and then she's pushing at Chloe.

 

“On your knees, Chlo.” It's simultaneously desperate and demanding, and it moves Chloe faster than Beca herself ever could. She slips off of her with shaking limbs and kneels in place for a moment, unsure. And it's one of the strangest things Beca has ever seen; Chloe Beale, uncertain in the bedroom. “Face the headboard,” she instructs and then smirks as she tacks on, “you might need it for support.” It's not often she has Chloe in the palm of her hand, not like this anyway.

 

Beca doesn't move right away, content to watch Chloe crawl into the space beside her and drop onto her hands and knees, head hanging uselessly in the air between her arms. She can hear her heavy breaths, shallow and quick, and feels her chest rise and fall at a matching pace. Her fingers twitch at her sides and she absent-mindedly squeezes her fingers around the thumb of her left hand until it pops, eyes raking over Chloe's form until she can't sit still any longer.

 

 

It's utterly inelegant, the way she clambers up and around until she's kneeling behind Chloe, but she's pretty sure that isn't something being paid any kind of attention. She flips her hair to the side, out of her face, and nudges the heel of Chloe's foot with her knee. Wordlessly, Chloe shifts her leg over, creating enough space for Beca to ease into, which she does without hesitation, tucking the hair on the opposite side of her face behind her ear with one hand and resting the other against the curve of Chloe's hip. She redhead jerks at the touch and Beca smiles, dropping her other hand to mimic the positioning on the opposite hip. She urges Chloe back a bit and bends forward, dropping feather-light kisses against her back before tilting to rest her nose against the curve of Chloe's spine.

 

“Are you ready?” She mumbles into smooth skin and is surprised when the body beneath her starts to shake. Chloe's laughter is quiet but undeniably there and, moments later, so is her voice.

 

“Why don't you **check** , Bec.” There's frustration lacing it and that makes Beca smile, almost more than the arousal that drips from each word, and she takes her time winding her arm around Chloe's middle. Flattening her hand against taut abdominal muscles and inching lower with every hitched breath of anticipation that flies from between Chloe's lips as Beca peppers kisses along her back with her own. She skims her fingertips lightly over Chloe's fold and feels the redhead stiffen as she chokes out a curse. “Beca-” that final vowel elongates into a groan as Beca pushes her fingers through silky heat and feels Chloe press down against her hand.

 

“Yeah.” Beca grunts, breathless. “You're,” Chloe rocks hard and she trips over her words, “yeah.” If she could, Beca would say Chloe's ready, more than ready. She's soaked, wetness streaked across the inside of her thighs, and Beca spares a thought towards the complimentary bottle of lube she'd been sent home with. Then she smirks because it probably isn't needed. But the chick had said something about it feeling nice anyway, so Beca straightens, taking her hand back and fighting to ignore the way Chloe whimpers at the loss of contact. “Reach under my pillow.” Chloe does as she's told and brings out the small bottle with a low chuckle, passing it back to Beca. She takes it, thumbing the cap off as she tracks Chloe's hand, watching it drift back to the pillow and grab a handful of one corner. She holds the bottle over the toy and turns it upside down. Then she panics and changes her mind at the last second, trying to get her hand under the opening in time for the lube to land on her palm instead. She mostly succeeds, but a single drop escapes her and hits the duvet. She glares at the spot, dragging her tongue across her teeth in annoyance, but turns her attention back to her hand. Clipping the cap back down, she brings her hand to the underside of the dildo and starts spreading the lube around. Afterwards, she spends a few seconds glancing around and awkwardly holding her hand out before deciding to wipe it on the comforter and making a mental note to do laundry tomorrow. Or maybe later.

 

“Beca? What-” Chloe's sounding dangerously close to worried and Beca touches a hand to her side to show she's still there, even though it's obvious she still is.

 

“Sorry. I was just, um,” she rubs her thumb back and forth over Chloe's skin, “making sure there's even coverage?” She wrinkles her nose, twisting her mouth up as it leaves her, and Chloe lifts her head to look back at her with a laugh. “Shut up.” She grumbles, motioning for the redhead to turn back around with a nod, but Chloe's stare remains.

 

“If I don't?” And her lips widen into a grin. Beca raises both eyebrows and, glancing down to double check positioning, she shifts forward. The toy bumps against Chloe, sliding against her but not inside and that gets her to drop her head.

 

“Maybe I'll gag you.” Chloe makes a noise that's neither a whimper nor a moan and pushes herself back into Beca with her hands. Movements steady and short, until she starts to gasp and quicken her pace, and that's when Beca eases back, reaches down with one hand and slowly slides the toy inside.

 

Their gasps come in unison, Chloe's a little higher, a little rougher, and Beca's eyes dart to where the redhead is stretching her arm out, knuckles white against the pillow she's pushing into the headboard.

 

For one eternal moment, everything is still, and Beca can't hear anything over the pounding rhythm of her heart except Chloe's breathing, which mixes itself seamlessly into the beat. And Beca has no idea how long she'd have knelt there, just absorbing the moment, if Chloe hadn't rocked herself forward, whimpering as the toy starts to slip out, then back, taking it all the way inside.

 

“Fuck.” Chloe groans, dropping her weight onto her forearms and pressing her head into the other pillow.

 

“Are you okay?” Beca's surprised that she can get any words out past the thumping at her pulse point and her hands drift restlessly across Chloe's back.

 

“Yes.” It's strangled, but it's there, and it reassures Beca enough for her to tug Chloe's hips back unexpectedly when she shifts forward again. “Fuck, yes.” This time when Chloe cries out, it isn't concern that grips Beca. Rather, it's the need to draw out every single sound of pleasure she's ever heard leave her girlfriend, over and over, until they slip into a scream that leaves her hoarse and begging for breath.

 

“How does it feel?” The timber of her voice is odd and broken, unsteady as she starts to move, the pressure of her hands against Chloe holding her still for the minute. Chloe gasps as Beca starts to find a rhythm – she can picture the way her mouth falls open, silent sounds of pleasure filling the space between her and the mattress – and Beca has to ask again before she gets an answer.

 

“Good.” She manages, back arching as Beca drags her nails along either side of her spine. “Really good, ah-” an experimental sharp cant of her hips drags a hitching moan from Chloe, then a slew of 'fuck's' as Beca instinctively repeats the motion just to hear the sound again. And she can't think, which is probably only an advantage for her right now because it means she can just react without second guessing herself. She forgets to insist upon Chloe's stillness, instead urging her on with the press of her hands as they roam everywhere they can reach. “Harder.” She rasps and then Beca's the one moaning as she complies, ignoring the way her thighs are starting to tingle and the inferno lighting the pit of her stomach is pulling her attention towards the way the base of the toy bumps against her in a way that is **almost** just right.

 

At the head of the bed, Chloe's moving, arms turning to jelly and seeming to sink into the bed. She turns to rest her cheek against the pillow and Beca's blessed with the sight of her profile. Her lips are parted, her hair a frizzy mess, and there's a slight crease marring her brow that twitches whenever Beca thrusts into her. She looks like she's being fucked, and the pleasure Beca gets out of seeing that is sinful. Feels like bliss. Urges her on. It keeps her attention as Chloe gives herself up, completely, and is reduced to a moaning mess of a person under Beca's touch. Beca's movements.

 

Under **Beca**.

 

She isn't sure how long she stares but when Chloe bites back a cry and turns her head back to muffle herself with the pillow, Beca knows she's close.

 

“Don't.” Her throat is dry and she has to swallow before she can clarify. “I want to hear you.” Shifting again, Chloe braces herself up against an arm again, tucking her head so that her forehead still touches the pillow but her face is uncovered and Beca can hear every rippling moan as they careen towards a constant.

 

“Touch me.” And she doesn't need to be told twice. Her hand retraces its earlier path, skipping over sweat-slicked skin and easily finding the bundle of nerves that makes Chloe's entire body jerk and shake. “Beca.” It's almost a whine, nearly a cry. “Bec.” And Chloe fumbles over it like she's never said it before.

 

“Yeah.” Beca's tone is quiet now, reverent, vision swimming as she watches the play of muscles at Chloe's shoulders and wraps her other arm around her middle. “I'm,” her throat is dry again, “I'm here.” Her fingers slip with a shameless lack of coordination between Chloe's legs but the redhead's cries continue to build as she moves back into Beca, quick and close.

 

“Beca,” and there's nothing quite like the feeling she gets when Chloe says her name like that, “Beca, I, I'm-” when she's so close to the edge and like Beca's name is the only thing that'll stop her from tumbling over, that only thing that'll ensure she'll fall, “- **fuck**.”

 

Chloe's inhale is deep and gravelly as her body arches, and it cuts off, breaks, into a desperate, keening version of Beca's name that's both familiar and new. And it shatters something, somewhere deep inside of her as Chloe's orgasm hits hard, sweeping over every inch of her. She stiffens against Beca, who continues to move through the rubble, slowing the pace of her hips and hand, until Chloe starts to shake and tremble, hips jerking a handful of times before she stills again with a muted cry.

 

Heart in her throat, Beca blinks down at Chloe and tries to focus on her breathing, tries to keep it even. She feels dazed, hyper-aware, and kind of dizzy. With careful movements, she eases back and away from Chloe, who whimpers until the toy is no longer inside of her, and scoots back towards the foot of the bed. Immediately, Chloe rolls onto her side, boneless and weak, and Beca hands refuse to work for a long ten seconds, but she manages to wiggle the toy out. She sets it aside and looks over to where Chloe's curled onto her side. Feels her chest tighten, then crawls over until she can wrap herself around Chloe from behind, arm around her middle and nose nuzzling her neck.

 

A minute ticks by, maybe more, and Beca presses a kiss to Chloe's shoulder before she speaks.

 

“Are you alive?” Because even though she can feel her breathing, she figures she should make sure. Chloe's smile is so wide, Beca feels her cheeks lift.

 

“Someone has a very high opinion of herself.” She sounds like she's in dire need of water. Beca feels a brief moment of remorse before she nips at Chloe's neck.

 

“Something I gauge by the facts I’m presented with and nothing else.” She says, haughtily and matter-of-fact, and Chloe's rumbling laughter spreads a different kind of warmth through Beca, though it's no less consuming. She closes her eyes as it rolls through her and presses herself as close to Chloe as she can. The laughter continues, fading into a hum only when Beca's fingers stroke across Chloe's stomach.

 

“You're lucky you're good in bed.” Chloe mumbles sleepily and Beca snorts, then buries her reddening cheeks in damp curls.

 

“You're lucky I love you.”

 

“Yeah.” Chloe sighs, acquiescing with ease. “I am.”

 

And Beca thinks that perhaps **this** is her favourite fantasy of all, moments like this one right now.

 

The one where she gets to spend every day with Chloe, wondering how the hell she got so lucky. 


End file.
